The Intimacy Experiment (The Roommate #2) - Rosie Danan Page 0,96
Tonight would be their penultimate lecture. The milestone was how to talk about having a future together, which was apt, to say the least.
“Where do you keep your spices?”
Ethan had offered to make her scrambled eggs before work—had gone out to the corner deli this morning while she stayed in bed, even—but at twenty to seven, various bangs and curses said he was finding the task more difficult to accomplish than anticipated.
“I don’t have spices,” she called from down the hall. She was trying to do a smoky eye, but the bathroom was still hot and humid from her shower, and the shadow kept sliding down her eyelid.
He popped into the doorway, his gaze following the way she bent over the sink, trying to get close enough to make use of the still-foggy mirror. “You don’t have salt?”
She wiggled her ass at him, for fun, until he stepped behind her and put both hands on her hips, bending to kiss her neck, light and maddening.
“I might have, like, a packet from a take-out order lying around in a drawer somewhere?” She hunted through her makeup bag. Where the hell was her eyeliner? “If it’s part of the recipe or whatever, why didn’t you pick it up at the store?”
“Why didn’t I pick up salt?” He stood up and made a face at her in the mirror. “Because salt is a standby. It never crossed my mind that you might not own such an incredibly”—he bit her shoulder a little—“basic ingredient.”
Naomi turned and looped her arms around his neck, leaning back to better admire the way the humidity had curled his hair against his cheeks. “I have hot sauce.”
“Not a valid substitution.” The words fell against her lips, chased by his mouth. “How do you cook anything?”
“I’ll let you in on a little secret.” She loved the minty toothpaste morningness of his breath, how it led to the kind of kiss you could only get from waking up in the same place as someone else. “I don’t.”
Ethan pulled back. “Wait, ever?”
She tilted her head, considering. “I order takeout or I make a salad or cereal or something. Maybe a sandwich. I have cold cuts, I think.” Ethan didn’t need to know that they’d probably passed their expiration date a while ago.
He wrinkled his nose.
“What? It’s fine. Usually we’re at your house, and you put on that cute little apron”—she threaded her fingers through the belt loops of his jeans, pulling his hips toward hers—“and I get to watch your hands move while you chop things.” They probably didn’t have time for sex before work, but maybe she could get him to—
“I’m buying you salt,” he said, extracting himself from her grip with surprising stealth and walking backward out of the bathroom.
She batted her eyelashes at him. “Are you sure it isn’t too soon for a grand gesture like that?”
“And pepper,” he shouted from somewhere down the hall.
“Stop.” Naomi picked up her mascara, noticed her reflection was grinning, and didn’t mind so much. “You’ll spoil me.”
When she’d gotten her makeup to behave, she headed to the kitchen.
“Can we run though the plan for tonight’s seminar?” She grabbed her cell phone and thumbed to her notes app.
Ethan worked a fork in sharp circles around a mixing bowl Naomi couldn’t remember ever purchasing. “Yeah, of course.”
He didn’t turn to look at her, even when she leaned far enough over the counter that she knew her cleavage was stunning.
“Okay, so,” she said, ignoring a petulant little sting. “My opening is about how talking about having a future with—or even thinking about a future that depends on—someone else can be really scary.” She let her voice go up a little on the end, a question waiting for confirmation. Also waiting for Ethan to pick up on her casual lead-in to discussing their own trajectory.
He set a pan on the stove and turned on the burner, watching while it click-click-clicked and then ignited. “Mm-hm.”
Apparently subtlety wasn’t gonna cut it here. She stood up, pushed her shoulders back, straightened her top. This conversation wasn’t something to make herself sick over. Not with Ethan. He’d mentioned his desire for marriage and kids—not explicitly with her but not not with her—before their first date. Commitment didn’t scare him. Responsibility didn’t make him want to run.
She scrolled further down, reading the bullet points she’d put together, hanging on to them like rope. “But I’m gonna recommend just going for it. Just saying what you want and seeing if the other person